Rainy Day Non-Riding Blues

You know it's May, and you know you're a cyclist, when it feels strange not to have ridden to work.


That is how I felt today.  When I went to out this morning, what fell wasn't just the mere pitter-patter of a morning shower or a tingly, misty drizzle.  Rather, the rain fell so heavily I could barely see out my window.


The weather alone might not have dissuaded me from riding to work.  However, I had two far-flung appointments more than ten miles from each other, and each was more than fifteen miles from work.  Perhaps cycling to them would have  been a character-building experience, had I been younger.  But I wasn't thinking much about building character today.


As I rode the train and bus, I felt a little guilty--and, paradoxically, cheated--over not riding today.  I guess I'm greedy:  We had gorgeous weather this weekend and, of course, I did two longish rides.  So I wanted to continue the "high" I got from those rides.  


I  got to work and found only two bikes parked in the racks. One looked as if it had been there long before today.  Its owner could at least have given it the treatment it deserves:

How Did They Arrive?

Whenever I ride to a seashore, I can't help but to imagine who might have landed there first.  I always think about, not only who they might have been, but how they got there.

I also can't help but to wonder what they found

and what they left behind.

Also, I want to know how they left.  If they were forced out, did they leave on their own vessels?

And: Will they return?

Flip-Flopping

During the halfway point of a ride on Arielle today, I got a glimpse of what Mercian meant wnen they called the finish on my bikes "flip-flop.:

Here's another shot of the bike becoming a chameleon:

I can't help but to think the sea and reeds had something to do with the light bringing out the green in the finish.